


Over His Head

by tonks42



Series: Camp Cardigan [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonks42/pseuds/tonks42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is overwhelmed upon arrival to camp. (Blaine's arrival told from his perspective.) Companion story to Best Summer Ever</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over His Head

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This short story goes along with the longer work Best Summer Ever. It is a retelling of events found in Chapters 3-5 from Blaine’s point of view instead of Kurt’s.

I'd barely been at this place, Camp Cardigan for Boys, for ten minutes when I found myself trailing behind the camp director on what seemed like a never ending tour.

It had already been a long drive from the airport, sitting awkwardly in the passenger seat. Thank God that the driver, whose name I can't even remember, (Thad maybe. Or Todd. Or Tad.) seemed to be alright with just listening to music on the radio. I'd found myself rather overwhelmed with how _green_ it was. There were trees everywhere. I think I saw more trees off beside the road in one mile than I ever had in my entire life. It's not that there aren't trees in Ohio, but most wide open spaces are farmland, not forest.

I tried to listen to what the camp director was telling me. I really did. That and try to figure out his name. Was everyone really calling him Shoe? At some point it had just started to soar over my head. There were just so many new people, and I couldn't stop my heart from starting to pound whenever they came over to us. It made it kind of hard to really hear what the director was saying. Or to focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

I dutifully made the effort to do it, though. What if something he said kept me from getting lost or humiliated later?

"The mailbox is there on the side of the dining hall. You can drop letters off any time you're walking past or before meals. We send them to the post office once a day." The director, who I decided to just go with calling Shoe in my head, said. I made note of that one. I wasn't quite sure who I would write, though. My mother, maybe? Probably not my father, who had shipped me off here after I'd practically begged not to come. If he didn't want me around, why would I write to him?

"This is the swimming side of the waterfront area. Beyond the beach, we have docks for the use of our swim classes and for free swim periods." I listened to Shoe drone on as I stared out over the water. It was pretty here at least.

Then Shoe called out a greeting to two boys about my age standing by the dock. I stopped dead at Shoe's side for a moment before blowing out a breath and forcing my feet forward. I could do this. I wasn't going to let that giant, gnawing ball of fear inside me win.

Even if one of the boys was, God, was he staring at me? Did I look like some kind of circus freak today? I pulled my casted arm close to my body, regretting for the hundredth time the impulse that had led me to getting a bright red one. So what if it was my favorite color? It also was just pulled attention to me. That was something I didn't need.

I darted my eyes up, once again losing focus on Shoe's words, something about lifeguarding? It was obvious both the blond and brunette had just gotten out of the water. That lake had to be freezing cold. Despite that, the blond one was just grinning at Shoe, standing there in nothing but swim trunks with a towel around his neck. I don't think I'd have the self-confidence to do that, not even if I had a body as good as blond boy. It was the other one who had been staring at me. I don't get where he got the right to do that. After all, he was soaking wet with hair that looked like someone had stuck his finger in an electric socket in an attempt to dry it.

I snapped out of it as I saw Shoe turn to move on, following behind him like the little lost puppy that I must seem. "Why don't I let you peek in the nearest cabin next? See where you might have lived if you'd started with us at a younger age." I made what I hoped was a noncommittal noise. My back was tensed as I could already hear the two boys talking about me. I knew it had been happening all day, or for the last half hour that somehow felt like all day, and it made my stomach tense up inside me.

I peeked in the cabin and tried to smile. "It's nice." I lied. The lake was gorgeous. The woods were pretty. This? It was bare wood floors, wood walls, and cots that looked like they'd be rather uncomfortable to sleep on for two months. It reaffirmed my position that I was glad my dad hadn't forced me to come here any earlier in my life than he did. I'd grown up listening to Dad and Cooper talk about this place like it was home, but this didn't feel at all like home to me.

I wrapped my arms tight around my chest, pulling the cast in tight against my body, wishing I was anywhere but here. I couldn't manage to get that underlying feeling of terror to leave my stomach and stop crowding my mind, but by God, I wasn't going to break down crying. Not where everyone could see me. I didn't need to be any more of a target than I already was by being the new kid. Not again.

 

* * *

 

 

I kept my head down keeping my eyes on the yellow plastic plate in front of me. The dining hall was nowhere near full with just the staff, but I didn't need to see them staring at me. It was bad enough that I couldn't tune out the whisper of voices that I just knew in my gut were talking about me. Just like they had been every time that Shoe guy and I walked away from them on my tour.

I was sitting at a table with him and four guys that he'd called Unit Leaders. I was pretty sure he'd introduced them, but I'd heard so many names that day that they'd washed right over me. I mean, I still hadn't even figured out what exactly the director's name was.

I took some of each food that was passed around, enough to hopefully not get any comment on and tried to force myself to eat. Eating with only my left hand had never stopped feeling awkward. At least it was spaghetti and nothing I had to call attention to myself trying to cut. I let the conversation the rest of them were having pass over my head and just focused on picking at my food. After the first few attempts to draw me in had been met with monosyllabic answers, they'd moved on to talking about plans for the rest of staff training. Even if I hadn't been so overwhelmed and so busy wishing I could be back in my bedroom with my comforter pulled up over my head, I would have had no idea what most of the things they were talking about meant.

Spaghetti plates had been passed in and traded for a platter of brownies when the dull hum of the staff talking took on a different pitch. I looked up to see a teenager standing on his chair. It took me a moment to recognize him as the boy with the wild hair from the lake. He'd apparently cleaned up since, because he no longer looked drenched and scraggly.

"What's Kurt up to?" I heard one of the Unit Leaders ask. I wasn't even really sure which one of them said it. Maybe the Asian guy? Nobody answered him because it soon became clear.

The teen struck a pose, getting a laugh out of the crowd before he started in on a song, belting at top volume:

__  
It's been a really, really messed up week  
Seven days of torture, seven days of bitter  
And my girlfriend went and cheated on me  
She's a California dime, but it's time for me to quit her

The guys were either hooting or hollering but they all seemed to just break down laughing when he got the line about his girlfriend. I just stared, not quite able to believe what he was doing. I couldn't tell if the guy just couldn't sing a lick or of he was purposely trying to sound nothing but loud. He wasn't worrying about staying in tune at all. I assumed it was the second as his whole table jumped up on their chairs to join him, singing just as loudly and just as badly.

  
_La la la, whatever, la la la, it doesn't matter, la la la, oh well, la la la_  
  
We're going at it tonight, tonight  
There's a party on the rooftop, top of the world  
Tonight, tonight and we're dancing on the edge of the Hollywood sign  
I don't know if I'll make it but watch how good I'll fake it  
It's all right, all right, tonight, tonight

They finished out the rest of the song the same way trading the verses among them. A tall, lanky guy took the next verse while all of them danced (badly) on their chairs. It was a miracle really that nobody fell off. When the song ended, they all took overly dramatic bows as the dining hall burst into applause. Well, all but the one guy who responded by throwing chunks of brownie at them. It didn't seem to phase them at all though. The super tall guy just grabbed the bits and popped them in his mouth with a cheesy "Thanks, dude!"

It was official. I was surrounded by insane people. Why in the world would they have thought that that was a good idea?

Oh God. What if someone expected me to do those things? To have everyone stare at me. Watch me. It shouldn't have been a foreign concept after all my community theater experience, but it was. There were so many things that had gone from normal to terrifying that I don't think I've even started to categorize them.

I let out a slow, deep breath, trying to distract myself with my brownie. No. They wouldn't be able to make me sing in front of them. I was just going to fade away into the background. That seemed safest in this little world of insanity.

 

 

* * *

 

After dinner, I found myself trailing after the director back toward the camp office. "Stick with me for just a few minutes longer, and then I'll get you settled with other guys closer to your age." Shoe had said. I'd readily agreed. It wasn't as if I was in any hurry to meet anyone else. Or to be alone without the supervision of someone who might at least keep them from harassing or hurting me.

We both settled into the big adirondack chairs on the porch, and Shoe kept up the same kind of mostly one sided conversation that he had all day. "This is one of my favorite places to sit in the evening after dinner. It's got a great view, and once the campers are all here you can hear them. It's a good, excited noise."

Good, excited noise. Right. I wasn't sure if I believed in any such thing. That's probably how he would have classified the dining hall, too.

"Kurt! You made good time." Schue called over to a teen approaching the porch. I looked up to find that it was the same boy from the lake. The one who had started that song.

"That's me. Nothing if not punctual." The teen, Kurt, responded. I didn't like the curious way he was watching me. He was obviously one of the popular boys and that had never spelled anything but trouble in my experience. I shrank back further into my hair, staring down at my plaid shorts.

I had to snap out of that fear and look up when the Shoe guy called me by name. "Blaine, will you be okay here if I take Kurt inside to talk?" Okay? Relieved beyond belief not to have to talk to him was probably more like it.

I nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough of an answer to I cleared my throat, pushing the fear aside to respond. "Sure. I'll just, uh, enjoy the fresh air." And the peace and quiet. Maybe by myself I could pull in a full breath.

"You probably don't want to witness whatever this is. I swear, Schue, whatever happened, I didn't do it! Only been here twenty-four hours. Blame Sam." I don't know if that was supposed to be a joke, but anyone joking or at least smiling about getting in trouble was bad news. Oh God. Think about what someone like that could do to you? I didn't realize that I'd pulled my knees up to my chest until it strained my casted arm, where I'd been letting the armrest of the chair support the extra weight. I let my legs relax, realizing I was alone.

The view over the sports fields was good. If nothing else, maybe I could pretend that I wasn't here and that this wasn't happening. Could I pretend I was in some children's novel about summer camps maybe? Or just that I was back at home in my bed and dreaming? Or back at home, before everything went wrong. Maybe in my mind I could be the theater camp I went to at Kent State last summer. Surrounded by people like me. The theater world is kind of crazy, but not like this place. How was I going to survive for a whole summer surrounded by jocks and frat boys?

I made myself let out another deep breath, trying to force my body to relax. It didn't work well, though. It hadn't for weeks. Not since I'd decided to bring a boy to a dance and ended up with a concussion and a cast. They said that the concussion had healed, but maybe it hadn't. Why else would my brain refuse to let me be?

The whisper of noise from inside stopped, and I looked over toward the door, unsurprised when they walked back out. I couldn't live in any of those dreams. I was here. I'd better make the best of it.

"So, Blaine. Remember how I told you about the big brother thing we do? Kurt has agreed to be yours. I have a feeling two of you will get along well. Besides, he's even from Ohio. How much better could you relate?" How could I possibly relate to this guy? To someone everyone seemed to like? I forced myself to nod, though. I vaguely remembered Shoe talking about that a big brother. It was some sort of mentoring thing.

"Apparently all us Ohio folk have to stick together." He said in a silly tone, probably trying to crack a smile out of me. God, this wasn't going to be a picnic for either of us. "Come on. I'll show you your new home away from home. I promise I don't bite."

"Alright. I suppose I have to, uh, branch out sooner or later." I pushed myself up out of the chair, holding my right arm protectively against my body. I hadn't put it in a sling in at least a week, but I wish I had today. It had been a really long day, and the extra support would have been welcome.

He was leaving the porch, so I followed after him. I made sure to leave plenty of space between us. I'd let him show me where we were going, but I wasn't going to make myself an easy target. A couple extra feet might be all I needed to get away.

 

 

* * *

 

Kurt had turned out to be alright. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, though. There was no way anyone as popular as he seemed could actually want to be my friend without wanting something in return. I just had to wait to see what. He'd helped me get settled in though, and not even made fun of me when he learned that I loved theater and musicals. Maybe he was just waiting for me to give away more. If he got my trust and really got me to spill my guts, then he'd have better ammunition to use against me.

After helping me unpack in this big empty room, Kurt had gone to collect two of his friends. I didn't know if they were all in on it, too, but they seemed to be keeping up the act if they were.

The blond, Sam, was a bit terrifying. He was loud. Exuberant. It kept making me jump out of my skin. The Asian boy I liked better, if only because he was quieter. Seemed friendly. I wasn't sure I trusted it yet, but he had shared cookies with us. Would you share cookies with someone you planned to beat up in their sleep?

I watched Sam and Kurt argue over some card in the game we were playing, Apples to Apples, for a moment before I leaned close to Mike. I had a question that I just _needed_ the answer to, and I had the feeling he was the least likely to laugh at me about it.

"Mike?" I whispered. "Is the camp director's name really Shoe?" At his nod, I pointed down to my currently bare feet. "Like Shoe?"

Mike was probably holding back a laugh but at least he didn't tell me it was a stupid question or share it with all the others to make me feel like I was two inches tall. "No. Like S C H U E. It's short for Schuester, his last name."

I nodded then came back to reality as Kurt and Sam finished bickering over what it was they'd been worried about. "Blaine, it's your turn to be the judge." Mike prodded gently. I nodded again, flipping over a green card.

"Dreamy." Maybe that's what this place was. Someplace dreamlike. It certainly was nothing like any real world I'd experienced. I wasn't ready to trust it yet, but maybe, maybe I could someday. It was going to be a really long two months otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is the first of what will probably be a series of short stories linked to Best Summer Ever. I’ve got a lot of ideas to write, but one of the first things I felt the need to do was get inside Blaine’s head, so to speak, since some of it will be from his perspective.  
> I hope you enjoy this. As per usual, I am planning to add some extra content (this time it will probably be pictures of places inspiring Camp Cardigan) on my tumblr, Tonks42. The song in this chapter is Tonight, Tonight by Hot Chelle Rae.


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